


Snowed in

by snurtz



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anxious Caleb Widogast, Caleb cleans up nice, F/M, Fake Marriage, Kissing, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 03:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17654813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snurtz/pseuds/snurtz
Summary: Caleb and Jester are sent off alone to impersonate another couple, in order to retrieve an important artifact. But it's a snowy evening, and they soon realize they will have to stay and spend the night together. Some things come to light in their time alone that perhaps neither of them were expecting. [Widojest]





	Snowed in

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God I'm writing shipfic? What is this. Well it's happening. I hope you enjoy it, Widojest shippers.
> 
> BIG LOVE to Gaby in the Widojest server for being my beta, she is a queen and made this so much better.

“Caleb, stop fidgeting with your sleeves.”

Caleb didn’t say anything, but his fingers stilled. He took a deep breath and looked out the window of the carriage. Worry lines creased his forehead as his eyes flicked back and forth across the grey landscape.

Jester studied him quietly as he worried towards the window. His clothes made him look the part he was meant to play—a fine deep blue coat and trousers with ornate gold embroidery—but the look on his face was quite a detractor. Twisting her lips, Jester reached into her clutch for the letter that had brought them here.

“I know you are nervous, Caleb, but we are going to do _so_ good,” she said, unfolding the letter. “Here, let’s go over the details again, so we’re ready when we get there.”

“I have a perfect memory, Jester,” said Caleb softly, still staring out the window.

“Well, _I_ don’t,” she replied, looking down at the letter. “My name is Lady Fancypants McGee…”

She peered up at Caleb. When she caught a wry grin creeping onto his face, she smiled.

“Lady Cordelia Bloom,” he corrected her.

“Lady Cordelia Bloom,” she repeated. “And you are Lord Aldric Bloom.”

Caleb winced, as he did every time they went over these details. Jester frowned.

“I’m sorry his name is so close to your own, Caleb,” she said. “But it’s just for a few hours during dinner! Then you can be Caleb again.”

Caleb finally looked away from the window and met her eyes. He offered her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, Jester. I… I admit I don’t like it much, but no one ever really called me… Aldric.”

“At least his name wasn’t Bren, right?” she said cheerfully.

Caleb grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut. Jester bit her lip. Sometimes it was so easy to say the wrong thing with him. Sometimes she didn’t even know why it was the wrong thing. Caleb looked down at his sleeves.

“Anyway,” she said, breaking the painful silence, “it should be okay. Lord and Lady Lessett have never met Lord and Lady Bloom, they’ve just been exchanging letters.” She looked back down at the letter in her hands. “ _We look forward to finally making your acquaintance after our correspondence and exchanging the promised items,_ ” she read. “ _It has been difficult to procure the book requested, but we have been fortunate in our connections and are pleased to say we have acquired it._ ”

Jester paused, glancing at him. “You’ve got the crystals, right?”

“Ja,” said Caleb, patting his side. “Safe in my pocket.”

“Good,” said Jester, scanning the letter for anything else she had forgotten. Lord and Lady Bloom had been on their way to exchange the crystals for some book, which was apparently a relic from Xhorhas that the Blooms had promised to bring to Rexxentrum. It was too bad they had been murdered before they could make their way there.

Jester shuddered, remembering the grisly scene. They had been connected to the Blooms by the Gentleman as contacts from which they could get inside information about the Empire. But when the Mighty Nein had arrived at their rendezvous point, they found the couple brutally cut apart. Caduceus had cast a spell to speak with them, but the Blooms did not have a lot of information to give regarding who had killed them or why. Their best clues had actually come from the items on the couple, not the dead couple themselves.

From the letters they had found and the information they had gleaned from the Blooms, the Lessetts were most likely unaware of their treachery against the Empire. So after quite a bit of debate, the Mighty Nein had decided the best tactic would be to send in Caleb and Jester to impersonate Lord Aldric and Lady Cordelia, since they were a human man and a tiefling woman. Fjord especially had not been a fan of sending them in alone, but as the manor was pretty far outside of town, there really was no way for the rest of them to tag along without arousing suspicion. Jester had her dimension door spell prepared, just in case they needed to run. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“You don’t think this is a setup to kill us, do you?” Jester asked.

Caleb glanced over at her, reading her face carefully. Then he leaned forward and took one of her hands. He patted it gently.

“Whoever killed those two did what they were sent to do,” he said. “They have accomplished their task.”

“But what if they’re going to kill Lord and Lady Lessett, too?” asked Jester.

Caleb smiled softly. “And here I thought you were telling _me_ not to worry,” he chided. He let go of her hand and sat back. “We have reason to worry—both of us. But I am far more concerned about getting caught impersonating these two than I am about some ambush. As far as we know, Lord and Lady Lessett are loyal to the Empire, and they are unaware that we are not.”

Jester nodded. “But they were a human and a tiefling, and we’re a human and a tiefling! And we can both use magic,” she said. “If someone attacks us, we can still defend ourselves. I don’t think Lord and Lady Bloom could do that.” She smiled at Caleb.

“That’s right,” he said. “We have magic.”

Jester took a deep breath and put the letter back in her clutch, a beautiful deep purple thing that matched the gown they had bought for the occasion. She felt _very_ pretty in it, and she had been able to tell from the look on Caleb’s face when he saw her in it that he thought so, too. The thought made a smile creep onto her face. Caleb looked very handsome, himself, in his fine clothes, with his face clean and his hair styled. She was not used to seeing him so cleaned up, and it was a definite improvement. When she had told him so, he had turned a particularly deep shade of red and refused to meet her eye.

Jester looked out the carriage window; the sun had probably just set, though it was hard to tell with the heavy cloud cover. It was fairly dark out there, and fat snowflakes were starting to fall. She sat upright and pressed her gloved hands to the window excitedly.

“Look, Caleb!” she cried. “It’s snowing!”

“It’s been snowing for a bit already,” Caleb replied. He peered into the darkness warily. “The flakes are getting bigger.”

“It’s so beautiful,” she said.

“Ja, I suppose so,” said Caleb.

Jester pulled back from the window and looked at him quizzically. “You don’t think so?”

Caleb shrugged, pulling at the embroidery on his sleeve. “You get used to it, living in the north of the Empire.”

“But things you are used to can still be beautiful,” Jester protested.

Caleb looked up at her for a long moment.

“That is true,” he said finally. He turned back to the window. “It does look beautiful.”

They sat in silence for the rest of the ride, and it was not too much longer before they arrived at the resplendent manor of the Lessetts. A bundle of nerves began to rise in Jester, but she pushed them down; there was no reason to be worried. They were the perfect match for the Blooms, so all they had to do was have dinner, make their trade, and go back into town to spend the night with the rest of the Mighty Nein. Caleb was right. No one was going to ambush them or try to kill them. The Lessetts trusted the Blooms.

The carriage came to a stop and Jester looked out into the darkness, which had come in full effect now. She could see two humans in the grey of her darkvision; a portly, sweet-faced woman was standing in the doorway, and a tall, thin man with an impressive mustache was making his way towards the carriage. The halfling driver they had hired in town, Gad, hopped down and opened the doors for Jester and Caleb. He bowed cordially. Caleb rose first, squaring his shoulders in a way Jester had never seen before. He stepped down from the carriage and then reached out for her hand.

“Lady Cordelia,” he said.

Jester grinned and took his hand, and he helped her out of the carriage. Snowflakes were already resting in Caleb’s hair. She felt them land on her skin; it was cold, but nothing that bothered her. She had never minded the cold.

“Lord and Lady Bloom!” called Lord Lessett in a deep voice that belied his thin frame. “Welcome, welcome! It is such a pleasure to finally meet you.” He took Jester’s unoccupied hand and kissed it, and she giggled. After he released her, he reached out to shake Caleb’s hand. It was impressive to watch Caleb match the energy of Lord Lessett’s handshake.

“A great pleasure,” Caleb replied. “A long time coming.”

“Well, come in out of this snow!” Lord Lessett said. “You _must_ meet my wife.”

“I can imagine nothing else I would rather be doing right now,” said Caleb. Jester covered her mouth to hide a giggle; she could sense just a hint of wryness in his voice. Seemingly oblivious to Caleb’s double meaning, Lord Lessett led them away as a servant emerged to assist Gad with the carriage. Lady Lessett smiled brightly as they approached.

“Come in!” she said, opening the impressive front door for them. “There are drinks in the parlor so we can make each other’s acquaintance, and dinner will be served shortly.”

Caleb was still holding Jester’s hand. She felt him squeeze it, and she squeezed back reassuringly. To her surprise, he looped his arm through hers and pulled her closer, resting his free hand on her arm. Being this close, she could feel how tense he was, despite carrying it well.

“Lady Lessett,” said Caleb as the doors closed behind them. He reached for her hand and kissed it, and she laughed.

“Please, call me Kenna in my own home,” she said.

“Thank you, Kenna,” said Caleb. “And you may, of course, call us Aldric and Cordelia.”

“And you may call me Abelard,” said Lord Lessett. “The parlor is this way.”

“Let me take your wife off your hands for a moment, Aldric,” said Kenna, holding out her arm for Jester to take. With a glance up at Caleb, she accepted the other woman’s arm, but for a second, she thought he might not let her go. A wave of discomfort rode over his face, but then he swallowed and smiled.

“Of course,” he said. “Lead the way, Abelard.”

Abelard led Caleb towards the parlor, and Kenna and Jester followed behind.

“Forgive me, my dear, but I had been wondering for so long what you might look like,” Kenna whispered to Jester. “All your husband said in your letters was that you were a tiefling—we don’t see many of those around here. You are truly beautiful.”

Jester grinned. “Thank you,” she said. “You are very pretty too!”

Kenna laughed heartily at that as they reached the parlor. “But definitely not as unique.”

The four of them sat down in the parlor and started to chat. Jester and Caleb had made sure to study the letters they had found from the Lessetts closely; they did not know what the Blooms had written to them, but from the context, they thought they had made some pretty good guesses. Since Caleb remembered everything, she let him do most of the talking, though she interjected now and then to keep their hosts laughing. Every few minutes Caleb looked over at Jester, and she could tell he wished she were a little bit closer to him. She kept up a cheerful grin. He was doing such a great job that she could tell that the Lessetts thought nothing was amiss.

Dinner was called shortly thereafter, and the four relocated to the dinner table. It was a wonderful meal; the Lessetts clearly employed great cooks. Jester could not believe how smoothly the evening was going. She had gotten to wear a fancy dress, see Caleb in a fancy outfit as well, eat good food, and enjoy some people who seemed genuinely friendly—and then they would come away with a rare Xhorhasian book with possible clues to the history and secrets of dunamancy. And it would no longer be close to the hands of those in Rexxentrum.

After dinner they retired back to the parlor for dessert and port wine, and finally Caleb brought them around to the reason they were here.

“Abelard, Kenna, you have been such wonderful hosts,” he began. “I must thank you humbly for the warmest hospitality. But let’s get down to business, shall we?”

Abelard chuckled. “Ah, yes, of course,” he said. “I had nearly forgotten the reason you had come!”

“It is very important that we get that book,” said Caleb, “lest it fall into the wrong hands.”

“And how right you are,” Abelard replied. “There’s some good information in there, I think—I’m not one for history or… for magic, at all, really, but there are some strange things written there. I’ve already written to Rexxentrum to let them know it will be on its way.”

Jester glanced at Caleb nervously. He twitched for just a moment before regaining his composure. “Oh?”

“Yes, of course,” said Abelard. “This is all for the Empire, after all, is it not? I have already heard from Lady Vess DeRogna and—ah, what was his name…? Tristan?”

“Trent Ikithon,” said Caleb in a low voice.

“Yes, that’s the one!” said Abelard. “Very eager, he is—my word, are you all right?”

Caleb was sitting very still now, and all the color had drained from his face. He looked as if he might be struggling to breathe. Jester’s heart began to pound.

“Is the port not agreeing with you?” she asked, thinking fast. She looked to Abelard. “Sometimes he feels a little sick if he’s had too much sweet wine.”

Abelard looked doubtful. “So suddenly?”

“Do you have some misgivings about Lady DeRogna and Trent Ikithon?” asked Kenna, staring intently at Caleb. “They are very loyal to the Empire...”

“They are indeed,” said Caleb. Jester wished he would stop scratching his arms. “ _Very_ loyal.”

“As are we all here...?” said Abelard slowly. He was looking back and forth between Caleb and Jester, suspicion growing in his eyes. There was a tense moment as Jester wondered what to do, but Caleb leaned forward in his seat.

“I _suggest_ you don’t question our loyalty to the Empire,” said Caleb to Abelard, and Jester’s eyes widened. She knew what that spell was. She also knew it only worked on one person at a time. She looked to Kenna, who was still looking at Caleb with a curious expression on her face. Within a moment, his gaze fell on her as well.

“I suggest you believe me when I say we are as loyal to this Empire as you,” he said evenly, his eyes cold on his pale face.

“My apologies, Lord Aldric,” said Abelard, and Jester looked back to him. His demeanor had immediately changed. “We just have to be careful. There’s a war on, after all.”

Caleb leaned back in his seat and rubbed his forehead. “I understand,” he said. He was still very pale. “We all have to be careful.” He set down his glass.

“I’m afraid my dear wife is probably right,” Caleb said, changing his tone. “I do apologize – you have been most excellent hosts and I hate to cut the evening short. Perhaps we can finish our business? The hour is growing very late, and we have to return to town.”

“What?” cried Kenna, setting down her own port. Her demeanor had changed as quickly as her husband’s. “You cannot be serious… you’re leaving tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t we? We have a room at the inn,” said Jester.

“And we couldn’t possibly take advantage of your hospitality any longer,” said Caleb nervously. His eyes darted over to Jester. She didn’t know what to do to reassure him. How long did a suggestion spell last? Would it matter if it wore off?

“Look at the _snow_!” Kenna protested, gesturing to the window. Jester gasped. Sure enough, in all the time they had been here, a good foot or so of snow had accumulated outside. There would be no getting the carriage back through this.

“Oh, no,” said Jester in a low voice.

“Please stay the night, at least,” said Kenna. “We can dig you out to get you to the main road in the morning. They are generally good about clearing the snow on the road to Deastok as soon as they can. We have very comfortable guest rooms prepared and would be happy to host you and your carriage driver for the night.”

Cold fear started to spread in Jester’s chest. They couldn’t refuse. It would be too suspicious. They would have to share a room for the night—just the two of them. Pretending to be a married couple. Either that, or they’d very soon be running for their lives. How far would they get in the snow?

“Th-thank you very much,” said Caleb. “You are… you are too kind.”

“Aldric, dear, do you want to give them what we have promised so you can go rest?” asked Jester.

Caleb nodded rigidly and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch containing the crystals mentioned in the letter. They had found it magically hidden on the real Lord Aldric Bloom; though he had not been wise enough to keep his life, he had made sure no ordinary person would find the treasures on his person. He set the pouch down on the coffee table and leaned back, looking at Abelard expectantly.

“Excellent,” said Abelard, leaning over and picking up the pouch. He peered inside, nodded, and passed it along to his wife. She set it on the table beside her as Abelard stood up and left the room.

“He’ll get the book for you,” she said. She smiled and then looked over at Caleb. “Can I get you something, Aldric? Some water, perhaps?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” said Caleb. “Thank you, Kenna.”

Abelard returned shortly with the book. He set it down on the coffee table and slid it over to Caleb. Jester watched his fingers twitch, and then he picked it up casually and flipped through a few pages, his eyes moving impossibly quickly over the words.

“Everything appears to be in order,” he muttered. With some reluctance, he closed the book and looked up at Abelard and Kenna. “Thank you. We will keep this book safe, as promised.”

There were a few things working through Caleb as he spoke. His arms were wrapped tightly around the book, but his fingers were still twitching, and Jester wondered if it was eagerness to read the book or him nervously trying not to scratch at his arms. His back was rigid as he carefully controlled himself. But his control was belied by how pale he was still. He had had enough of this farce and was starting to unravel, and Jester needed to get him out _fast_.

“I’m so sorry, but I think my husband needs to retire,” said Jester, keeping her eyes on him. “It’s probably the wine.”

Caleb took a deep breath and nodded. “My apologies to our hosts.”

“Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t solve!” said Abelard jovially. “I believe our guest room is ready for you. We’ll have breakfast set tomorrow—I hope you can join us.”

If they weren’t dead or gone. “We would be happy to,” said Jester. She smiled warmly at Abelard and Kenna and rose to her feet, trying not to look too hurried as she took Caleb’s arm. “Come on, Aldric, let’s get you to bed.”

Caleb rose, linking arms with Jester and leaning into her, and Kenna led them to their room. Jester wished her a good night, ever aware of Caleb tense and rigid beside her, and then finally the door closed, leaving the two of them alone.

“ _Scheisse_ ,” Caleb whispered, and immediately his knees buckled. Jester scrambled to hold him up, and she managed it, at least well enough to get him to the bed. She sat him down on the edge, and he doubled over, breathing hard, holding the book tight to his chest.

“You did _so_ good, Caleb,” she said, squatting before him so she could look up at his face. He was taking deep, controlled breaths, and his eyes were shut tight. She reached up and loosened his cravat to give him a bit more space to breathe.

“I-I think I m-might get sick,” he whispered.

“Please don’t get sick in here,” Jester said, putting her hands on his shaking knees. “I don’t want to have to clean it up.”

Caleb made a strangled sound, but after swallowing a few times, he managed to keep his dinner, much to Jester’s relief. She sat down beside him on the bed as he gulped for air and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. His whole body was shaking, as if all the stress from the past several hours was trying to come out of him at once. She rubbed his arm gently.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said. “You can be Caleb now.”

“This is as Caleb as it gets,” he replied in a strained voice.

“That’s not true,” said Jester. “I mean, sometimes you get all nervous and stuff, but you’re also super smart and clever and you really did a good job pretending there for like, a _really_ long time. And those spells were _so_ good.”

Caleb glanced up at her from the corner of his eye. She smiled.

“That’s all Caleb, too,” she said.

He let out a huff, but Jester could feel him starting to relax, though his shoulders were still shaking. One of his hands left the book against his chest, and he took her hand. For a moment, Jester was startled. She had seen Caleb reach out for physical comfort before, but usually if it wasn’t Nott, it was for Beau, for some reason—a fact that she tried to tell herself she wasn’t bothered by at all. She _definitely_ wasn’t jealous that Caleb seemed to trust Beau more than her. Definitely not.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked gently after a minute, as his breathing became less harsh and his shaking less pronounced. His hand was clammy in her own.

He seemed to wake up a little when she spoke, sitting up a little straighter.

“Ja, I think so,” he said. “I just… I wasn’t expecting them to have written directly to the Cerberus Assembly.”

“To Trent?” asked Jester.

Caleb grimaced, and his grip on her hand got tighter.

“Well, don’t worry about him right now,” Jester said. “We’ve got this book, so it’ll be out of his hands, right?”

“We have to hide it,” Caleb said urgently. “The Lessetts wrote to them about it. If they know this book exists, they can locate it. We have to keep it hidden.”

“Shit,” said Jester. She bit her lip. She had that lead box, and maybe the book would fit in there with the beacon. But that was in her Haversack, back in Deastok with the rest of the group.

“We have to hide it,” Caleb said again. He stood up suddenly, dropping the book on the bed and staring at it. He ran his hands through his hair.

“I don’t think we can hide it tonight,” said Jester. “We’re stuck here until the road is clear tomorrow.”

Caleb started pacing the room, muttering to himself too quickly for Jester to hear what he was saying. She wracked her brain for any option that would make Caleb feel better, but nothing was coming to mind. Watching Caleb grow more anxious, she picked up the book and set it on the bedside table, and then she stepped into his path and stopped him with her hands on his shoulders. He stared at her quizzically.

“We can’t do anything about it tonight,” she said. “They’re not going to come to this house in the middle of the night in the _snow_ , Caleb. We’ll get it back to the group and everything will be okay.”

 Caleb sighed and closed his eyes. “We don’t know that, Jester.”

“Well, we can’t know everything,” said Jester with a shrug. She smiled. “But I think it will be fine. We’ve made it this far, right?”

Caleb did not answer, but his shoulders fell under her grasp. He ran a hand through his hair again, looking sidelong at the book on the table. She reached up and gently turned his head back to look at her. He stared at her for a few moments, his brow creased and one hand still in his hair. Then his expression softened.

“I am really not comfortable with this,” he said.

“I know,” said Jester. “But we can’t do anything tonight.”

A pained expression crossed Caleb’s face, and his jaw shifted. “Let’s at least… put it out of sight. For now,” he said.

Jester nodded and released him, and he took a step away from her. He took the book from the bedside table and hid it in the drawer. Resting his hands on the table, he let out a long sigh, his head bent.

“We need to inform the others we won’t be back,” he said. “They will be worried.”

“Oh!” said Jester. “I’ll send a message. To… Nott.” She began her spell. “Hey Nott, we got snowed in and now we can’t get out so we have to spend the night here, but Lord and Lady Lessett are nice and—”

“That’s over twenty-five words,” Caleb interrupted, turning to face her.

“Shit!” said Jester. “I can send it again…”

Caleb let out a short chuckle. “I think she got the important part.”

Sure enough, Nott’s voice sounded in her head a moment later.

“All right,” she said. “But keep Caleb safe. If you need us to come, you just let us know and we’ll kill them!”

Jester giggled. “They’re ready to come help us if we need them,” she said to Caleb.

Caleb walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain, looking out at the snow. “If they can get to us.” He sighed. “I cannot believe we thought it was a good idea to send just two. That was _far_ too close.”

Jester joined him by the window. The snow was still falling, draping the landscape in a heavy blanket of white.

“I don’t think there was another way to do it,” she said. “Besides, we both are _really_ powerful. We could definitely kill them if we needed to.”

Caleb looked down at her and smiled fondly. “Maybe.”

A pool of warmth spread in Jester’s chest at the look on his face, and she smiled back at him.

“You know, you look so different when you smile, Caleb,” she said. “You should do it more often.”

“If you give me reason to, perhaps,” he said, still smiling. Then he blinked a few times, as if he had surprised himself, and the smile disappeared. He let the curtain fall back into place. “But, uh, it’s getting late. We should go to sleep. You can… you can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“The _floor_?” Jester said incredulously. “The bed is big enough for both of us!”

“Yes, but, ah…” Caleb scratched at his arms. “We don’t have to share it, if it would be uncomfortable for you. I am fine letting you have the bed.”

“I think you mean it’s uncomfortable for _you_ ,” Jester teased, poking him in the chest. She grinned at him slyly. “Are you afraid of me, Caleb?”

Caleb blinked. “No.”

“We’ve all slept in your bubble together,” Jester said. “ _Really_ close together. This is the same! You don’t have to be _weird_ about it.”

“I’m not trying to be weird, I just didn’t want to—oh, never mind,” said Caleb, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes. “But we don’t have any bedclothes.”

Jester shrugged. “Bedclothes, underclothes, same thing. I’m getting out of this dress.” She turned her back to Caleb. “Can you unbutton it, please?”

“O-oh,” said Caleb. “Me?”

“I can’t get it myself, silly,” said Jester, wiggling her shoulders. “Beau helped me put it on, you know.”

She waited a few moments, but nothing happened. She could hear Caleb breathing behind her. Then she felt the light touch of his fingers on her back, and a chill went down her spine, catching her by surprise. A sudden thought burst into her mind of her mother, if this was something she did with her clients. She pushed the thought away as soon as it came to mind. _That_ was not something that was happening here tonight.

Methodically, silently, Caleb unbuttoned the back of her dress, from her neck down to the small of her back. Jester tried to think of something to say, but suddenly it felt like her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, and a wave of heat was moving through her. Then, as the last button came undone, his touch was gone. She turned around to look, and he was already halfway across the bedroom, reaching into the pocket of his fancy blue coat and pulling out a spool of fine silver wire.

“Thank you, Caleb,” she said. He did not reply; he was already muttering the ritual spell under his breath, his back seeming to be purposely turned to her in this moment. She slipped off her gown and laid it over a chair, and then she smoothed out her simple chemise and sat down on the bed.

Now she had to wait ten minutes for Caleb to finish his spell. Leaning back on her hands, she watched him as he worked. All cleaned up and in some decent clothes, it was easy to see how in another life, he could have been one of the powerful mages in the Cerberus Assembly—he looked like he would fit right in with them. But instead he chose to dress in filthy, tattered clothes, and put mud on his face, and let his hair get messed up and greasy. She frowned. She had always thought he was handsome—albeit a bit stinky at first—but seeing him looking so nice made her feel sad. There was a better life he could have had, and Trent had messed it up somehow.

And she knew so little about it.

Finally, Caleb finished his spell and turned around, and Jester was still staring at him. He furrowed his brow.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Jester sighed. “Well, I guess so,” she said. “I was just thinking about you.”

Caleb cocked his head to the side. “About me?”

“Yeah, and how you have to hide all the time,” she said. “You look so handsome and it makes me sad that you have to look so dirty and stuff. Do you like being all dirty?”

The corners of Caleb’s lips twitched. “No, not really,” he said. “But I’d rather look dirty than… be discovered.”

Jester leaned forward and rested her elbows on her legs. “Well, I’m glad you don’t have to be all dirty tonight.”

“Me too,” he said. There was a deeply fond look in his eye, as if his world had narrowed to contain only her. That warm feeling was growing again in her chest. He moved towards the chair where she had laid down her gown and removed his cravat, and then started to unbutton his overcoat, facing away from her.

“Do you miss dressing nice?” she asked.

Caleb paused, then continued working on his coat. “Yes. Sometimes.”

“Do you miss your old life?” she pressed.

Caleb shrugged off his overcoat and laid it down next over Jester’s dress, and then began to work on his waistcoat. Jester waited patiently for an answer. He carefully folded it and laid it down as well, and then he turned around.

“Are you going to watch me the whole time I am undressing?” he asked.

Jester scowled at him. “I’ve seen you naked, like, twice,” she said. “What’s the big deal?”

Caleb looked at the far wall and sighed. Then, resigned, he stripped off his breeches and set them down.

“You’re so skinny,” Jester commented.

“Yes, I am,” said Caleb, sauntering over to the lamps on the wall and turning them down. The room was suddenly very dark, but of course, Jester could still see just fine in the dark. She wondered how much Caleb could see her.

“Are you going to sleep now?” she asked, watching him walk over to the bed. He pulled back the covers and crawled in, dropping his head on the pillow with a huff. His back was to her.

“Ja, I’d like to,” said Caleb softly. “It’s been a long day.”

Jester stared at him in the darkness, disappointed. She rarely got time alone with Caleb, and she had hoped to spend a little more of it awake. She spun around on the bed and sat cross-legged facing Caleb’s back.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked.

Caleb turned slightly.

“Do you like Beau more than me?”

Caleb turned all the way around now, his brow furrowed. “Why do you ask that?”

Jester looked down at her feet. Her tail flicked behind her. “I don’t know,” she said. “You tell her stuff you don’t tell me. I thought maybe you just liked her better, is all.”

“No, Jester, I—I like you,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness. “I like all of you. Everyone in the group.”

“That’s not what I asked,” said Jester, glancing up at Caleb.

Thoughts ran across Caleb’s face, indecipherable. “I’m not sure there’s a way to quantify how much you like one person over another,” he said, slowly, as if he were thinking it through as he said it. “You’re very different people. I like you in different ways.”

Jester thought on this. That was probably true. She _definitely_ liked Caleb and Beau in different ways. She loved Beau. They were close friends, after spending so much time together. But the way she felt about Caleb was, well—different. Hard to describe. Sometimes she felt more like she felt towards Beau, or Nott, or Caduceus, or Yasha, but then other times, she felt more like she had felt a while ago towards Fjord. But that was also different. The way she felt about Caleb was… simply the way she felt about Caleb. Whatever that was.

“Are you jealous, Jester?” he asked.

Jester threw on a silly grin she was not sure Caleb could see. “What? No,” she said. “I mean, she is _pretty_ cool, but so am I, so…”

“You said that I’ve told her things I haven’t told you,” said Caleb.

“Well, yeah,” said Jester, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I mean, I don’t want to _make_ you talk to me about anything, but we’re such good friends now, and we all knew there was _something_ you told Beau and Nott that you hadn’t told the rest of us, especially after Beau yelled at you that one time when Cali was with us. And then I could _tell_ she already knew about… about what you told us a while ago. About the Academy. I just don’t know _why_.”

The look on Caleb’s face was the softest thing Jester had ever seen, and yet somehow at the same time, it was heartbreaking. It made her want to cry, but it scared her, as if she was looking at something she was not supposed to see, a door that was usually shut that someone had left open by mistake. A flash of light blinded her suddenly, and when she regained her vision, Caleb was sitting up in bed. Dancing lights glowed from the ceiling above them, faintly illuminating the dark room.

“Jester,” he said evenly, his gaze fixed on her, “I, uh, told Beau… certain things… because she asked. She had given me a condition. And I…” He looked away from her now, scratching his arms. “I don’t really know if that was the right decision, but it’s the one I made, and I can’t take it back.” He looked up at her again. “And I told you much of what I told her already, so you’re pretty much on the same page now.”

“But not everything?” Jester asked, searching his eyes.

Caleb’s jaw shifted. He shook his head slightly.

“I’ve told you before, Jester,” he said softly. “I’m not a good person.”

“And _I’ve_ told _you_ before that good people sometimes do bad things,” said Jester, unperturbed.

Caleb looked at her long and hard.

“You don’t even know what I’ve done,” he said.

“I know you ran away,” she countered. “If you thought it was good, you would have stayed, right?”

“I’ve killed people.”

“So have I.”

“I’ve killed innocent people.”

“Did you want to?”

“Ja.”

This gave Jester pause. She studied his face for a few long moments. There was a challenge there in his eyes, as if he was daring her to see what he saw himself to be. Daring her to hate him. And then, suddenly, it was as if that door that had been left open slammed shut, and she was left out in the cold. She had seen too much, and he had realized it and he had shut her out. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but suddenly she was afraid to.

“I don’t think you did, though,” she ventured.

Caleb was still looking at her, but somehow, he wasn’t at the same time.

“I’ve done a lot of things I regret,” he said.

“But see,” she said, reaching out and putting her hands on his knees, “you _regret_ it. I don’t think a bad person would feel bad about doing something bad.”

Caleb cocked his head to the side as he looked her over. He looked sad again. Wistful.

“I wish I could see what you see in me,” he said faintly.

Jester’s hands dropped from Caleb’s knees, and they looked at each other quietly for a few moments. Jester took a deep breath. Caleb seemed to be calculating something, weighing some option against another before he spoke.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

The door was opening again. Jester looked down and thought about this for a moment.

“Well,” she started slowly, “I don’t really know what it is I don’t know about you, Caleb.”

“But what do you _want_ to know?” Caleb asked again, looking at her intently.

 _Everything._ She wanted to know everything.

“You said you went crazy,” she said.

Caleb nodded slightly.

“Like, a little crazy, or like, _really_ crazy?” she asked, leaning in conspiratorially.

Caleb leaned in as well. “ _Really_ crazy,” he whispered.

Jester frowned. “But you’re not crazy now,” she said.

His expression was indecipherable. Then he smiled, a little sadly. “Not quite as much.”

Jester sighed and squinted at him, leaning in a little bit closer and trying to read his face. He looked back at her evenly. His expression belied nothing—or, at least, nothing she had not seen in him already. He looked serious, melancholy, but with a warmth that seemed both out of place and more part of him than anything else.

“You are too mysterious, Caleb,” she said, pulling back with a coy grin. “You know I like you very much, right? You don’t have to be scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to you,” he said, indignance flickering across his face.

Suddenly, Jester had an idea. She spun around, hopped off the bed, and pulled back the sheets. She climbed back on and threw the covers over herself. Caleb watched her do all this with an eyebrow raised.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Let’s try this,” she said, peeking up at him. “When Beau and Yasha and I talk at night, we all get under the covers and talk there. It feels more secret.”

“All the way under the covers?”

“Well, not _all_ the way, it gets hot under there. But up to our chins,” said Jester.

A smile was fighting for presence on Caleb’s lips, and a silent chuckle bounced in his chest. Then all but one of the dancing lights went out. He lay down, and Jester pulled the covers up. Caleb did the same.

“Good,” she whispered loudly. “Now we can talk about whatever we want to talk about.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Caleb whispered back.

“Well,” said Jester, “this is when we can tell each other secrets.”

Caleb pondered. “I have a secret to ask of you. How old are you, Jester?”

Jester grinned mysteriously. “How old do you think I am, Caleb?” she asked.

He studied her face seriously for a good ten seconds, narrowing his eyes. “Twenty-two.”

Jester grinned even wider. He was a good guesser, but the fun of making everyone keep guessing was too good to lose.

“Not bad,” she said. “How old are you, Caleb?”

“Thirty-three,” he said.

“Oh,” said Jester, surprised. Looking at his face, that seemed right—she probably could have guessed something like that before, had she put in the effort. But then she thought about the math. He said he had been a student at the Soltryce Academy, and that he had been on the run for a long time. If he was 33 years old, how long ago had all of that been?

“How old were you when you were at school?” she asked.

A shadow seemed to pass over Caleb’s face, though the dancing light high above them did not move.

“I was young,” he said.

“Like, _how_ young?” she pressed. “Like in your twenties, or…”

“Very young,” Caleb replied. “I was seventeen when I… left the Academy.” He looked thoughtful. “Half a lifetime ago now.”

“And when did you go crazy?” asked Jester, the words tumbling out of her before she could check them.

Caleb’s gaze flicked back up to her. He seemed to consider her for a moment, studying her, measuring something—what it was, she didn’t know. He furrowed his brow, and then he answered. “I was seventeen.”

Jester blinked. Part of her couldn’t believe he had answered her question. But if he was going to be forthright about himself now, she was going to take advantage of it.

“Did they make you crazy at the Academy?” she asked.

The sorrow deepened suddenly in Caleb’s eyes, and it seemed to Jester that the door he had opened again for her was starting to close. Regret shot through her, but to her surprise, he answered her again.

“In a way,” he said. “But it was also my own fault.”

There was a lot in that short answer, and Jester wasn’t sure she should press further. She thought of all the times that Caleb had said that he wasn’t a good person, all the sadness he carried inside of him, how tightly he held onto the secrets of his past. She knew part of it now; she knew that Trent Ikithon had taught him to hurt people, had tortured him, even. But there was something else lurking under the surface that she knew he had not told her, and she could tell it wasn’t something that he wanted to tell her. And part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“What kind of crazy were you?” she asked. “Did you like… poop your pants and stuff?”

Caleb squinted at her. “No, I did not poop my pants.”

“What was it like?” she asked, relieved that he had switched gears so easily.

“I don’t remember much, to be honest,” he said. “A lot of it… a lot of it is just missing.”

“When you were on the run?”

He was doing that thing again, looking her over. Deciding. “No, I remember being on the run,” he said. “They… they kept me in an asylum.”

Jester felt a heavy bolt of pain in her chest, and she gasped and felt the corners of her eyes sting. For some reason, the thought had never occurred to her, but now that it had, images filled her mind. Images of Caleb locked up in some place, not knowing where he was or what was happening, and no one to help him. She wanted to reach out and touch him.

“Caleb,” she whispered. “They locked you away?”

“For a long time, ja,” he said. He seemed to be retreating into himself, and Jester didn’t want him there. She reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder. He blinked rapidly, his eyes briefly shooting towards where she touched him, and then back to her. A strange feeling seemed to rise between them, a feeling Jester wasn’t sure about. She could still feel the pain in her chest, restricting, getting tighter.

“Were you all alone?” she asked.

Caleb was looking at her strangely. “In a way,” he said. “It felt very alone.”

Jester could understand that. She had always had the Traveler to keep her company when she was a child, but as she had learned what it was like to really have friends that weren’t a god, she had realized how alone she had felt. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“That makes me so sad, Caleb,” she said. “I wish you hadn’t been so alone.”

“I could have used a friend like the Traveler, eh?” he said lightly. He let out a breathy laugh that definitely sounded fake. The strange look was still there, but he looked different, too, like he was afraid of something. Jester couldn’t say anything; the tight pain in her chest was overwhelming. She wanted to take that sadness and loneliness from him. She wanted to pull out whatever they had done to him—this beautiful, good man, who held so tightly to the bad he saw in himself. Not allowing himself to be good. Not allowing himself to leave the past behind.

The strange look in Caleb’s eyes gave way to panic, and then his hand was on her face, brushing her cheek. It felt wet. She hadn’t realized that she’d let her tears fall.

“Please don’t cry on my behalf,” he said, looking her over worriedly.

“But it’s so _sad_ ,” she said. His fingers were still on her face. “I want you to be happy, Caleb.”

“I am… happy… sometimes,” he said, looking pained.

“What makes you happy?” she asked. Whatever it was, she would make it happen.

Caleb’s expression was soft again, warm, wistful. He shrugged slightly. “Our friends, sometimes,” he said. He looked away from her, up at his dancing light, as if he were searching for something inside of it. Then his gaze settled back on her. “You. You make me happy.”

Something twisted inside of Jester, and all she could do was look at him. She was suddenly very aware of where she was and where he was, how her hand still rested on his shoulder, and his hand was now against her cheek, soft and warm. His thumb caressed her cheekbone. The strange feeling had risen again between them, something she wasn’t sure about, thick and desperate, and she didn’t know what it was or what to do with it. His eyes were so blue, even in the low light, focused on her as if she were all the world contained within it.

In the next moment everything was different. Caleb’s lips were on hers, and her eyes were closed, and his hand had drifted to her throat and somehow her other hand had found his cheek, and it was all she hadn’t known she had wanted until it happened, everything she had been unsure about suddenly solved. This was _good_ , and she let herself stop thinking as Caleb pushed himself up and leaned over her, his lips against hers growing more intense, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do, but it seemed to be working out okay in the moment. Then, as suddenly as he had started, he stopped, pulling back, leaning over her, looking terrified. The dancing light was gone. Her hand on his cheek drifted down to his shoulder.

“I can’t do this,” he said.

“Why?” she demanded. They were so close now. She liked the warmth of him touching her, and she held his shoulders tight, lest he leave her.

“I don’t…” Caleb began, and then he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers. “I’m not good, Jester. I’m not good enough. For you.” He pulled away again and looked at her.

“Caleb,” she said, feeling bold, “just shut up and kiss me again.”

Caleb blinked down at her, and she rolled her eyes and grabbed his shirt, pulling him back to her. She had a little more of a handle on how to do it this time, she thought, and her hands drifted up into his hair as he responded in kind to her urgency, and it felt like they were taking something but giving something to each other at the same time. His hand on her neck drifted down to her waist and settled there, and then he was kissing her lazily, gently, and it was good but not enough for everything roaring inside her. Frustrated, she lifted her head to get closer, and she felt him smile.

“ _Scheisse,_ ” he whispered, his smile still against her lips.

Then she didn’t know _what_ was happening—his hand on her waist was gripping her tightly, and his other hand was in her hair, and his mouth was purposeful against hers, his tongue pushing through her lips and _that_ was new, and kind of weird, but it was good too, even if she wasn’t quite sure how to do it back. But that was okay, because Caleb clearly knew what he was doing, and she let him. She let him hold her, and kiss her, and pull love out of her. And she wanted _so much_ , too, like there was something ravenous inside her that had been asleep, and now it was awake, and it was hungry for this touch, this understanding between them. As much as he needed, she was willing to give.

As much as he was willing to give, she would take.

And then he stopped. He dropped his head onto her shoulder, breathing slowly, his one hand gently resting on her stomach. She could suddenly feel how hard her heart was beating, and she could feel him pressed against her side, their legs intertwined, though she didn’t remember doing that.

“Whoa,” she said.

Caleb lifted his head and looked at her, puzzled. “What?”

“That just happened.”

Suddenly, Caleb looked apprehensive. “If I overstepped—”

“No, no, no, it was good!” Jester said, her eyes widening. “It was _really_ good, I just wasn’t expecting that and it was a lot. But like, a _good_ a lot, you know?”

“Okay,” Caleb said slowly, still looking wary.

“But like, I would _totally_ do that with you again,” she said quickly. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Caleb sighed and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to her shoulder for a moment; then he pulled himself off her and lay back on his side, releasing her. Immediately she missed the warmth of his hands on her, and she rolled onto her side, too, bringing herself in close. She found his hand under the covers and pulled it back to her, and he didn’t resist. In fact, he slipped his other arm under her and pulled her into his chest. She felt him kiss her forehead, and she giggled.

“You are too good to me,” he said into her hair.

That could never be true. He deserved all the goodness in the world. She pulled her arms in against his chest and let him hold her close, his chin resting on her forehead.

For all the self-loathing he held inside of him, for all the destruction she had seen him cause, for all the secrets he could not bring himself to tell… somehow, in this strange house, pretending to be somebody else, but in his arms, she felt the safest she had ever been.

Jester fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

A knock on the door awoke Jester the next morning.

“Yes?” said Caleb’s voice from above her. She felt his hand drift down her side.

“Lord Bloom,” said a voice on the other side of the door, “there is breakfast served.”

“Thank you, we will be out shortly.”

Jester lifted her head to see Caleb looking down at her.

“Good morning,” he said.

Jester dropped her head back down on the pillow, feeling her stomach twist as the previous night’s events caught up to her. It felt kind of weird in the light of a new day, everything that had happened. But then it felt good still, being so close to him and feeling his arm around her. She pressed her face into his shoulder.

“I’m going to get dressed,” he whispered, pulling himself free of her. The bed shifted, and then she was alone. She turned her head and watched him dress in his clothes from the night before, his back to her.

“What are we going to do, Caleb?” she asked.

Caleb buttoned up his waistcoat.

“We’re going to have breakfast with the Lessetts, and then we’re going to go back to Deastok to our friends with that book and find a way to hide it,” he said.

Jester frowned. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

Caleb’s shoulders dropped, and he bowed his head. He took his overcoat off the chair and put it on, and then he turned around and walked back to the bed.

 “Come here,” he said, sitting down.

Jester sat up and shifted towards the side of the bed, sitting cross-legged in front of him. He took her hands in his and smiled sadly.

“I care about you very much,” he said. “I would do anything… almost anything. To make you happy. But I… have…” He frowned fiercely. “There are things that I need to do. I can’t…” He bowed his head, and his grip on her hands tightened. “I shouldn’t have kissed you last night. It was an impulse, and I allowed it to happen, and I… I’m sorry.”

Jester stared at him, frowning, as several feelings stirred in her heart. Sadness. Confusion. Anger. She felt a lump developing in her throat.

“I kissed you too, though,” she said.

Caleb didn’t respond. Oh, what she would give to know what was going on in that brilliant head of his. Something prickled inside her, a feeling she couldn’t quite place. She slipped her hands out of his grip and stood up, and he looked up at her, his eyes fraught with sadness.

“Will you help me with my dress?” she asked coolly. She picked it up off the chair and slipped it on, watching Caleb watch her. He ran a hand through his hair and then stood up and walked slowly over. She turned her back to him, and she felt him buttoning up the back of her dress, just as methodical as he had been the night before. When the last button was fastened at the nape of her neck, his fingers rested there for a moment; then, softly, they trailed down her back and came to rest on her hips. With the hint of pressure from his hands, Jester turned around, her heart starting to pound. _Yes._ _That_ was what she was hoping for. She looked up into his sorrowful eyes.

“I can’t let this happen,” he said.

Jester smiled mischievously and joined her hands behind his neck.

“Maybe it happened accidentally,” she whispered. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, and immediately he responded, gripping her tightly and pulling her in close. A surprised hum sounded from her throat, but her lips were claimed as Caleb kissed her, desperately, almost violently, and she could feel in him that the desire awakened between them last night was a voracious beast that could only grow hungrier as they fed it. She pulled back to take a breath, and he pressed his forehead against hers, breathing hard. Settling back down on her heels, she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“You _are_ good, you know,” she said, gently resting her hands on his cheeks. “You are good enough for me.”

There was a storm behind those blue eyes as she spoke. His mouth hung open as he still fought to catch his breath, and he said nothing. She pulled his head down and kissed him one more time, gently, and the two of them lingered there for a few moments before breaking apart.

“Let’s get breakfast and get out of here,” she said.

Caleb was still speechless, but he released her. She smoothed out her dress, and Caleb went over to the bedside table and pulled out the book. Then he opened the door and stepped outside, and Jester followed. He held out his arm; she linked hers into it and leaned into him, and they made their way to breakfast.

Lord and Lady Lessett were just as cordial as they had been the night before, and Caleb and Jester ate well. She had worried that Caleb might have to use Suggestion on them again in order to leave, but to her relief, they seemed to have given their suspicions no further thought. She mostly let Caleb control the conversation, and after some coffee and a promise to continue to write, they were back in their carriage and on their way back to Deastok. The snow was high on the sides of the path, but true to their word, the Lessetts had cleared the way for them to get back into town. As soon as they were in the carriage, Caleb pulled out the book and stuck his nose into it, his eyes moving quickly across the pages.

After about twenty minutes of watching him do this, Jester hopped up from her side of the carriage and sat next to him. When he didn’t notice, she looped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder, and he looked at her suddenly, startled. All she did was smile. With a smile of his own, Caleb leaned over and kissed the top of her head, and then he continued to read.


End file.
